


constellations

by camboymark (Somethingorwhatever)



Series: the marley chronicles [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, First Love, Minor GOT7 (Ensemble), basically mark falls in love with his best friend named wes, idk how else to tag this, lots of love, marleigh, that's there ship name
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-18 23:59:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8180734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somethingorwhatever/pseuds/camboymark
Summary: constellations aka the college au where mark falls in love with his best friend of 10 years and nothing is weird about it?





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> part: one
> 
> aka the your freckles astound me can i please connect them and take pictures for my art final? au
> 
> teaser: "it's how i see your freckles."

 

     "what's up mark?" she asks, flipping a page in her book. "you're quiet today."  


     "i'm always quiet." he replies absently, distracted by his mind and the little collection of moles on her arm. one on her outer wrist, one nestled in the crook of her elbow, and two more leading up to her shoulder. he finds them enchanting.  


     "yes, but not this quiet." she observes, closing her book and fixating her dark gaze on him. he loves that about her. she's always been so perceptive, even at a young age. she can always see right through him. he needs that. it's one of the many reasons why they've been friends for so long. "tell me what's up."

mark eyes her for a moment before speaking. "it's my art final."  


     "i thought so."  


     "i need to do really good on this wes. i need to get the best grade so then i can enter it into the regional competition. i  can't fuck up."he stresses.  


     "you never do though?"  


     "i might this time."  


     "why?"

     "i have to use a human model." he admits, laying his head on the table. he hates having to use a model. he can never come up with a good idea and they always claim he's difficult to work with which he kind of is. he just has a hard time articulating himself and the models always want someone to walk them through everything. mark also has a hard time with strangers but that's beside the point. he just doesn't like working with models.  


     "ah, i see." she sighs. "have you found one yet?"  


     "no." he mumbles. "all the available ones are taken and i can't ask a random person on the street."  


     "aw, poor baby." she coos, ruffling his hair.  


     "i'm serious wes!" he whines, lifting his head up to look at her.  


     "i know! i wasn't being condescending."  


     "for once." he mutters causing her to laugh, loud and bright. he glances up at her and grins. he loves it when she laughs like that. he knows it helps gets rid of all her pent up stress.  


     "oh be quiet." she chuckles, yanking on a strand of hair. "i mean it. you do have a hard time with models. if only you could use someone you know." she sighs, carding a hand through his hair. she was right. if only he could-

     "that's it!" he gasps, looking up at her.  


     "what's it?"  


     "i could use someone i know. god wes, you're a genius!" mark gushes, a smile growing on his face. why didn't he think of that sooner? all of friends wanted him to paint them, photograph them, etc.  


     "i know that," she laughs, "but who are you going to use?"

mark looks at her now. he takes in her dark eyes and hair and her full lips. he takes in her honey skin and he focuses on the ink blots for freckles she possesses, sparking an idea in his head. he draws lines from each spot and smiles widely. he's got it. he's got her.  


     "you." her smile drops as her eyes widen.  


     "me?"  


     "yes wes! you!" mark laughs. he abruptly stands and pushes his things into his backpack. "call me. no wait--i'll call you. yeah, yeah. i'll call you!" he tells her before running away in the direction of the art building.  


two days later, mark nervously checks his supplies in one of the old art rooms. wes will be arriving in a few minutes and he wants everything to be perfect. he's excited for this project and he needs everything to go well, especially for her. she claims she doesn't understand art, that it baffles her. she feels that she can't see art the way he does and interpret it. when he tries explaining, she always writes him off, saying that she doesn't understand. he wants this experience to go as smoothly as possible for her. this was totally new for her.  


as he checks the backdrop one last time, the door opens. "mark?" he turns around and waves excitedly.  


     "hey you're here!"

     "yeah, sorry i'm late. i almost got lost actually," she chuckles, "the art wing is intense."

     "you're not late, i'm just early,"  by four hours,  "and just the old rooms are confusing. the rest of it actually makes sense."  


     "we're in the old rooms?" she asks, dropping her bag next to his and approaching him.  


     "yeah."

     "why?" mark takes a look around him at the dust floating in the sun's rays, the shadows of trees on the floor, the high ceilings riddled with skylights and just smiles.  


     "i don't know," he replies. he looks back at wes and her dark, inquisitive gaze and shrugs. "i just feel good in here."  


she studies him for a moment, one eyebrow raised with an eye squinted as she tries to read him. after a few seconds both eyebrows furrow followed by a single blink. "ok." she nods. "let's get started."  


mark smiles widely and beckons her towards him. "are you wearing what i asked?"  


     "yup. under here." she comically yanks on the oversized hoodie she's wearing like a dress.  


     "great." he smiles. producing two rolls of white gauze from his pockets, he hands them to her. "put this on, like, around your chest and around your shorts as well and i'll be over there. let me know if you need help."

he then goes over to his paints, sits with his back facing her for privacy, and double checks them for the fourth time. he's excited, ecstatic even. he's going to get an a on this project  and win the regionals  and work with her freckles at the same time. it's a triple win.

"uh mark?" she calls out. he turns around and finds himself smiling a little too wide. "is this good?" she asks

     "fantastic." he blurts. her chest and shorts are covered in the gauze, completing one whole third of his vision.  


     "fantastic?" she wrinkles her nose, laughing nervously. "are you sure?"

     "yes. this is going exactly like i want it to."  


     "and what way is that?"  


     "come here and i'll show you."

she sits beside him and he pulls a small contact case from his shorts. "can you wear these?"  


     "yeah."  


     "do you wanna put them in or me?" he asks even though he knows her answer. they have been friends for 10 years now. she was independent and hated help with simple things. he watches her now, bemused, as she slowly looks him up and down before speaking. to his surprise however, "i'll do it." aren't the words that leave her mouth.  


     "you do it."  


he swallows his shock and complies with her command. with a contact perched on his finger, he tucks her hair behind her ear and sweeps his fingers past the mole on her temple and the one on her cheek and cups her jaw gently. they maintain eye contact as he presses each lens into her eyes, the dark brown turning into shocking white. when he's done, she blinks and tilts her head. "what's next?"  


     "now i paint you." he tells her, pulling her to her feet.  


     "what are you gonna do to me?" she asks as he dips his round brush in black paint.  


     "first," he brushes her hair from her face, "i'm going to paint your freckles." he tells her, pressing his brush against the first perfect blot of ink on her temple. carefully dragging his fingertips down her face, he locates the next faint freckle on her cheek and paints it.  


     "then what?" she questions, her breathlessness not lost upon his ear as he paints the next mark on her neck, a hand on the back of it for support. mark looks up at her and licks his lips, noting their close proximity and the shift in the atmosphere between them. it's different and new. he likes it yet it bothers him.  


     "you'll have to wait and see." he says wryly in an attempt to lighten the mood. instead of saying anything back, she nods and lets him devote himself completely to her freckles.  


after each dot has been outlined and filled in, he steps back and checks over his work, his eyes surveying her body slowly. as he looks her, he starts to see her in a different light. she's no longer his best friend with entrancing moles and waves of hair and honey kissed skin. she's more than that. she's always been more than that. she's his muse. his motivation. his reason behind every photograph, every painting, every sculpture. from the very first doodle up to now. she was the reason. the hidden reason. how has he not realized it before?

when mark finally meets her eyes, he's almost surprised to see that her gaze is dark, intense and for once, unreadable. he usually can tell what she's thinking by looking at her eyes, but this stare is unintelligible. she's not looking through him like usual. she's doing something.

     "now what?" she questions, breaking the silence.  


     "now," he says, dipping his flat brush in navy paint, "i paint you."

     "are you turning me into an avatar?" she quips as he approaches her with the dripping brush.  


     "no," he bites the inside of cheek, "some-thing much more beautiful." and the small intake breath that occurs as he paints a stripe across her chest is not lost upon his ears either.  


mark paints her slowly, careful to stay in the imaginary lines he's drawn for himself. he watches as the brush outlines the contours of her body that he knows so well yet doesn't. she was flat everywhere when they met, her body similar to hugging a piece of cardboard. but one day when they were 14, he hugged her and noticed how his arms wrapped around the new curve in her waist and how he felt her against chest. she was new to him then just like she's new to him now.  


when it's time for the white paint for the outside of the lines, mark finds himself standing closer to her than usual. he was always close to her, something about her always caused him to gravitate towards her, but this is closer. both in proximity and actions. he finds himself pulling her hair from her neck with the touch reminiscent of a feather. and the strokes of his brush have an added note of something in them. he doesn't know what it is or why he's doing it, but he isn't going to stop. it adds to the strange atmosphere around them.  


soon, she's covered in white and navy, completing two thirds of his vision. all that's left is to connect and supernova her.  


he starts with orange and carefully sponges along the imaginary lines. he likes the orange. it fits her and her firecracker personality. he goes to red next and only uses a little for the small fury within her and the redness of her eyes when she cries. next is green or more specifically, turquoise. it's for the oceans she yearns to conquer and the rivers she has to cross in order to do that. then it's purple for her lavender scent, her lilac shampoo, and the wisteria meadow she loves to sit in and watch. after that is pink for the color of her blush; for the tips of her fingers; for the rawness of her soul.  


mark ends with white in the center. it's for the white of her skin during the winter months; the white of her knuckles when she grips his hand especially hard; the white of her innocence that lies under her rigid surface. he paints her center white for her and for himself.  


     "i think i see it now." she mutters as he carefully sponges black to fill in the spaces between colors.  


     "see what?"

     "you're turning me into a supernova, aren't you?" he freezes and looks up at her slowly from his position on his knees.  


     "inside, yes."  


     "and what about the dots over my freckles? are you going to connect them like an outline?" he shakes his head slowly.  


     "no, i'm connecting them like a constellation." he watches as the word registers in her mind. her brow furrows slightly followed by a silent repetition of the word. she's trying to understand it, something she has never done. he watches her with unabashed fascination.  


     "why?" she asks, meeting his wide gaze.  


he thinks back to when they had their first sleepover. they were newly 13 and went out to watch the stars in the park. she pointed out the big dipper to him and instead of following her finger, he followed her freckles, wondering if he could find the big dipper on her instead of the sky and if would be any easier.  


     "it's how i see your freckles. i've always wanted to connect them and see how you would look."  


     "oh." she nods. she falls silent for a moment before speaking again. "how else do you see me?" she asks and mark swallows to keep the sudden onslaught of his most intimate thoughts at bay.  


_ i see you as waves of hair that can resemble the most tumultuous ocean. i see you as honey gold skin that sun loves to love. i see you as dark eyes that peer into my very soul. i see you as pearled teeth enclosing a candied tongue surrounded by bubblegum lips. i see you as beautiful, complicated, out of this world.  
_

mark leans his forehead against her stomach, pressing his fingers into her waist and the back of her calf. his very thoughts pain him as he tries to come to terms with them.  


_ i see you as my muse,  _ he thinks,  _ i see you as mine. _

     "celestial." he confesses in a voice so quiet not even he can hear himself. "angry. ambitious. lovely. raw. afraid." he lists.  


     "my muse." mark chokes out. "my reason for everything."  


if she hears his confession, she doesn't say anything. she doesn't recoil from his embrace. she doesn't push him away. she stays with him and turns his face up towards her, painted fingers holding his jaw gently.    


     "i see you as this. paint on your face, a wild look in your eyes, your soul in the room. i see you mark. i see you how you see." wes tells him. he now realizes what that unintelligible stare was. it was her seeing him. her looking  at him, not through him.  


     "i get you now mark. i understand." he can't help but smile because that was the only thing he ever wanted her to do. understand.  


he opens his mouth to reply, something about finally and dinner? on his lips, but she presses a white finger to his mouth. "let's just..." she stares at him for a moment, clearly wanting to say one thing but forcing out another, "finish this yeah? i'm sure you want to see it done."  


and all mark can say is: "okay."  


so he finishes it. he dips his round brush in black paint once more and guides it over the curves and planes between each freckle. he watches her watch him closely as he paints her lips silver and as he traces the veins of her wrist. the way she relaxes under his touch and how she leans towards him are easily noticed by him. she understands him now and she knows that he sees her entirely. she's letting down her innermost barriers and letting him in.  


as he photographs her, it dawns on him that they're going to leave this room as different people. this afternoon has created something new between them. something that needs to be cultivated. something he's willing to explore. and when she kisses his cheek goodbye, lingering for a second longer than usual, he can tell that she's willing to explore it too.  


as she walks from the room, mark watches her go and decides that as soon all of this is over, he'll ask her. to dinner, a movie, a walk, anything. whatever he decides on, he'll ask. he won't let himself do anything else. he wants to get to know her and he knows that she wants to do the same thing.  


he takes another glance at her departing body. oh fuck it. he opens his mouth to call after her when she turns around and stops in the doorway. "hey mark?"  


     "yeah?" he answers, smiling. she beat him to the punch.  


     "when you win regionals, do you want to go out to dinner with me?"  


     "you know," mark replies, sensing that their new beginning is just about to start. "there's nothing else i'd rather do."

 


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the we're finished with the project but you need help with your outfit and your lips are silver and can i kiss them? au
> 
> teaser: "do you um...can i just..?"

     "when regionals are over, do you want to go out to dinner with me?"  


     "you know, there's nothing else i'd rather do."  


she eyes him from the doorway. he knows her well enough that he can tell she's holding herself back from doing something but yet he can't tell what that something is.  


she rolls her silver lips into her mouth and curtly nods. "okay."  


     "alright." he replies, narrowing his eyes at her. he wants to take a step forward, to say something, to do something. he just doesn't know what. all he knows is that she's pulling him towards her again and doesn't even realize.  


she lingers by the doorway for a second longer before turning away and heading for the bathroom. mark stares at the empty space she leaves behind.  


he wants to go after her. he wants to catch her the hall and watch her mouth drop as he asks her. as he asks her to change the date and take her out tomorrow instead of 3 weeks from now. he wants to watch her say yes. he should go after her.  


but he doesn't. instead he turns around and goes over to his camera and starts to pack it up. as he does so, he finds himself glancing at the door frequently. if he runs, her could probably catch up to her. she might be lost, the way to the bathroom with the shower was tricky. he did try to give her good directions, but she got lost easily. he should go.

_ but now isn't the right time _ , mark tries to reason with himself. she's got her drama final to think about and he has to edit these pictures together and print them before everyone else does. then he has to do paperwork for regionals and everything is just a giant mess. he doesn't have time for a date and neither does she.  


he looks at the door one last time. oh fuck it.  


he takes off out of the room and down the hall, following the map in his mind until he's at the bathroom. he hears the water running and swallows. he can ask her through the door, it's fine. he won't get to see her reaction, but that's fine. it's fine. he's (somewhat) fine.  


     "wes?" he calls out, knocking on the door.  


     "mark?"  


     "yeah it's me. i, uh, have to-"

     "just come in, i need you to help me anyway." mark, being himself and her longtime best friend, places his hand on the doorknob, poised to walk in when he suddenly freezes. he isn't going in there as a friend. he's going in there as something else,  _ someone _ else.  


he stands up straighter, takes in a deep breath, and enters.  


the shower is on, water gushing straight into the drain. her clothes are thrown on the toilet seat in the opposite corner. she's in front of the shower, fiddling with her top, arms reaching around her back at something she can't find. a string of gauze hangs from her shorts, but other than that she's still painted to perfection. a vision of blue and white, intermingling colors in between.  


     "hey," she grins, voice muffled by the water, "can you help me? i can't find the end of the gauze and it won't tear."  


     "yeah, yeah. i've got you." he replies hurriedly, trying to mask the shake in his voice and knocking of his knees.  


he approaches her, hands nervous and mind anxious. he doesn't know why. this is something he should do without a problem. he's done it multiple times over the years. 8th grade winter formal, the samuels' joint 14th birthday party, her older sisters' wedding, senior prom, just to name a few. he's used to wardrobe malfunctions, so why is he so nervous. yes, the relationship between them is changing and unclear, but that doesn't mean it should affect them for the worse.  


wes turns her back to him, drawing her sprayed hair over a shoulder. he bites his inner cheek as he lightly tugs on some of the gauze, looking for a weak spot. he's holding his breath and he's pretty sure that she's doing the same thing.  


     "you really wrapped yourself up tight." he tries to joke, both it and his laugh falling flat.  


     "uh huh." her voice is almost gone and that fact takes his away as well.  


     "just let me..." he trails off, failing to replace the tangible awkwardness with something more tolerable.  


a few more tense seconds later, he finally frees her from her gauzy bind. she turns suddenly while he's still holding one end of her prison, unknowingly entrapping him in one of his own.  


her.  


his eyes are full of her; full of her painted face; full of her copper brushed cheekbones; full of her white tipped lashes. his eyes are full of her. and full of her silver lips.  


he swallows and shifts in his feet, uneasy. he can feel the heat from the shower, her body, his hands. they're close. so unbelievably close that his mind is incapable of thought. he can't see anything but silver. anything but unmarred, platinum painted lips and the face that they belong to.  


     "i came in, uh..." he stutters. he blinks hard to clear his vision and starts again.  


     "i wanted to um..." he sees her eyes, dark and wide. he sees her lips, soft and plump. eyes, lips, eyes, lips. he's so confused. he can't see, tunnel vision rerouting his eyes again and again until they land on her mouth once more. outlined with pale and filled in with sonic. he can't but he should.  


     "do you um...can i just..?" his questions trails off as he leans forwards just a little bit, the next few seconds of this moment playing in slow motion.  


his right hand slides around her back, pushing her across the invisible ever present barrier that always held them back. the fingertips of his left hand make contact with her jaw and cradle is gently. he presses his lips to hers and the results are cataclysmic.  


his lips are her and they're both moving in this perfect sync. mark's mind is reeling, his soul detached, his knees shaking. he feels her. he  _ feels _ her. he feels the rough texture of paint on her skin, the stickiness of the spray in her hair, the hot puffs of air that's coming out of her nose. he feels them and they feel so good.  


mark slides his hand down her back, pressing her even closer. she sinks into his arms, fingers curling into his shirt. he stumbles forward, water falling over them. he's too engrossed, too  _ involved _ to notice.  


her hands are on his chest, on his face, in hair. she's warm and wet and silky with paint dripping from her body. it's messy. they're messy, but it feels like perfection.  


he sighs heavily into her mouth and it's like she surrenders herself completely, her head falling back into his hand, her body sinking into his arms. he's hers and she's his. oh fuck.  


mark braces himself against the wall and forces himself to pull away. his eyes open and slowly focus on her. once silver lips smeared and mixed with blue and white and red. wide eyes, dark and trembling. white hair fading into gray, plastered against her forehead. she's a mess. a beautiful mess.  _ his _ beautiful mess.  


     "i, uh," he pauses and licks his lips, "wanted to ask you if you wanted to move our date to tomorrow." he smooths hair back from her face and cradles her face, resting his thumbs on her swollen lips. "i've got work in the morning, but we can spend the rest of the day together. how does that sound?"  


     "i can go with you to work." she mutters. "we can spend all day together then."  


     "okay," he nods. he looks over her face once more and smiles.  _beautiful_ _,_ he thinks and presses his kiss to her forehead as a goodbye. "i'll be by around  8:30."  


     "okay." and then he leaves. he leaves the warmth of her body, the steam of the bathroom, but keeps the memory. and when he catches a glimpse of himself in a darkened window, all dripping water and smudged paint with a touch of silver on his lips, he grins widely.  


_ crazy_, he thinks,  _ but worth it. _


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka the we're on a date and everything seems so magical why haven't we done this sooner? au
> 
> teaser: "why did it take us this long?"

mark taps his foot anxiously, checking the clock for the 20th time in a single minute. he watches as it slowly shifts from 8:25 to 8:26. then, and only then, he leaves his apartment, heading upstairs to meet wes.  


they live in the same building, her apartment right above his. he's well informed in the subject of her schedule and the swing of her moods. when she wakes up early, he can hear the incessant creaks of her footsteps as she jogs throughout her room and immediately know that she's going to working out that day. when her slow footsteps echo throughout his place in the dead of night, he knows that she's practicing lines or studying for class.  


he knows when she cries, body curled up on the bathroom floor, sobs leaking through the floor and hitting his heart like lightning strikes. when that first happened, he discovered he could run up the stairs and to her apartment in just under 2 minutes. and when she called him up one night so it  _ wouldn't _ happen again, he found he could walk there briskly in just 3 minutes.  


and that's what he does today. he shoves his feet in his shoes and and slams the crooked door shut, not even bothering to hear the lock fall properly. he's made this run so many times that he doesn't even work up a pant as he takes the stairs 2 at a time, a bag on his back and two fragile drinks in his hands. and just as his watch hits 8:29, he's in front of her door, a grin on his face and his heart hammering through his chest. right on 8:30, he kicks the door once and she opens it, the sun illuminating her head like an intangible halo.  


"morning." he smiles.  


"morning." she smiles.  


this is going to be a good day, mark can tell already.  


"tea?" he asks as if it's even a question. it's been their tradition to drink milk tea every morning ever since they started high school. she's never grown tired of it and he knows she never will.  


"of course. what else would i drink?"  


"water?" he shrugs. "coffee. other tea." this causes her to laugh as if he's joking. which he kind of is. he knows her and he knows she won't drink other tea because of how much she loves his mother.  


"and hurt your mother's feelings like that? this tea," she gestures to it like she's in a commercial," is the only thing keeping me healthy. i would've died by now if not for this specific tea and you just want me to drink other tea?" she places a hand on her chest dramatically. he rolls his eyes and walks past her into her apartment.  


"i'm not your drama professor," he chuckles while kicking his shoes off. "you don't have to sell stuff to me."

"i know, but it does help to practice my craft on someone."  


"i've been dealing with your craft for the past few years, i think you can spare me." he retorts, finding his way to her kitchen. sitting down at the bar, he begins to sip his tea as he looks her. she looks nice today. she always looks nice, but she looks especially nice today. she paired a lace shirt with a leather jacket and artfully scuffed shoes. he says artfully because he ruined them himself with a rock and switchblade. he likes the juxtaposition between something soft and something rough. it fits her. it is her.  


"what?" she asks as she sits next to him, straw balancing on her lip, eyebrow raised. the epitome of beauty in his eyes.  


"you look pretty." he tells her. he can say stuff like this now with abandon. he can freely watch as her cheeks fill with pink and her eyes widen. and he can relish in the fact that he caused that reaction.  


"thank you. i'm wearing the jacket." she replies, cheeks pink and her voice an few decibels lower. she spins for him then, a slowdelicious spin, hair swaying and outfit on display. he can't help but smile as the back of her jacket comes into a view, a kaleidoscope of pastel colors morphed into flowers with his name hidden somewhere along the petals. his jacket is just like it with her name replacing his of course. it was for twin day during their senior year of high school. wes found the jackets, mark found the paints and then he went at it. they won first place and had been wearing those jackets ever since.  


"i am too." he informs her after she finishes spinning. amusement followed by mischief crosses her face. "what?"  


"aren't you gonna spin for me? i spun for you." she points out, hand on a hip and head tilted. he laughs and lazily spins in his chair. she sucks her teeth and makes other approving noises. "nice...very nice."  


"alright let's go. i'm officially sick of this conversation." they both know he isn't because there's something about wes verbally praising him that feels good, but he needs to hear her infectious giggle once more and that's the only way he can hear it.  


15 minutes later, mark and wes approach the old photography shop where he works, filled with milk tea, never ending smiles on their faces, and hands clasped tightly. he's happy to go to work; he loves his job. yes it's only an internship and he's technically not supposed to get paid even though he still does anyway, he still loves it. he loves it because it's like he works by himself. he has almost total control over what he does and how he does it.  _ and _ he works for his idol, jack dechamps, a famous photographer who's gone 8 months out of the year and let's mark do whatever he wants. he even lets him keep the money from the gigs he books. he adores mark just as mark adores him. this job is everything he's ever dreamed of and going to work with wes' hand in his makes it even better.  


"what are you doing today?" she asks him, sun hitting her skin and radiating off of it wonderfully.  


"its a magazine shoot. its an indie one that specializes in denim. they want, to quote, a whimsical style shoot that captures the essence of their magazine and the model." he tells her knowing she'll get a kick out of it.  


"are you serious?" she laughs, rich and from her stomach; euphonious and whimsical in itself.  


"yeah, but i don't think they know what it means. they just want a lot of wood, sun, and flares." he shrugs. this magazine loves whatever he gives them, claiming that he did total justice to the concept when the concept they gave him was something completely different.  


"oh listen to you," she cheeses, "cocky photographer man who knows what his clients want."  


"what can i say?" he chuckles. "they love me."  


"of course they do." she unlatches her hand and slides it around his waist, invoking goose bumps, an increase in heart beats, and the urge to kiss her again. "who doesn't love mark tuan, california's photographer to watch." she pinches his side and ruffles his hair.  


"ah come on wes, don't do that. it took me ages to do it this morning." he complains, trying to dodge her outstretched hand.

"it took you 2 minutes and you know it." she giggles knowing damn well that she's right. "and besides, i'm making it look better."  


"no, you're messing it up." he frowns, dodging her hand a few more times. "and if you keep doing it i'll," he cuts himself off as he grabs her wrist, jerking her towards him in his arms. they're chest to chest, waist to waist, hip to hip; everything aligning, everything fitting together. they haven't been this close since yesterday when they...when he...

"you'll what?" she questions, never failing to maintain the semblance of being difficult even when her voice is gone and her pupils are so wide mark can't even see the brown in her eyes. he swallows and glances at her mouth, painted the lightest shade of rose to match the back of her jacket and the blush that has risen in her cheeks.  


"i'll kiss you." he whispers, red filling his cheeks now. the softest sigh leaves her lips and falls onto his face.  


"you won't."  


he leans close to her face, brushing his cheek against hers. lightly touching the corner of her jaw with his lips, he whispers, "try me." then he walks away, leaving her flustered and a little pissed.  


"you fucking ass!" she exclaims. he hears pounding feet as she runs up behind him and hops on his back. she locks an arm around his neck and wrenches it. "fuck you, i'm never telling you to kiss me again."  


"fine then," he says through wheezy laughs, "i'll just kiss you without asking next time."  


"like hell you will," she tries to sound mad through her laughter and flexes her arm around his neck once more.  


"then i guess you're in hell." he shrugs, gripping her legs and spinning in a tight circle. after a few seconds she screams and hits his shoulder.  


"alright alright i give!" she yells and he stops as quickly as he started. she hops down and begins to walk in a staggered line.  


"stop being so dramatic!" he shouts after her. she straightens up quickly and shoots him a blinding smile over her shoulder. he's trying to look and sound indifferent, but she's infectious. he can't help it. he never could. he has to smile back which he does.  


"i'm a drama major," she shrugs, "i can't help it." which is true. she could never help it. she's always been this dramatic. always overdoing, overthinking, overreacting. she's always trying out a new technique, a new way way to deliver lines, a new way to convey an emotion. the day they met, she apparently woke up in a bad mood and decided to practice anger. since mark wouldn't leave her alone and saw right through her, she decided to keep practicing anger until she got it right. and that was a very long month.  


"well i'm an art major," he counters, "but you don't see me painting everywhere, do you?"  


"you could though. you could put a mural on any wall on the campus." she spins around, arms spread open. "you could paint any wall in this city! no one would complain. everyone loves you." he blushes at this and stuffs his hands in his pockets.  


"fine, fine. if i did paint a mural, what would it be of?" he asks even though he already knows the answer. what else would he paint? it would obviously be her. who else? what else?  


and wes knows too because she stops spinning and looks at him again. inscrutable dark eyes, narrowed on,  _ focused _ on him. "me."  


"or me." a new voice cuts the tension between them, popping their little bubble. wes' eyes goes from shadows to light as the voice's owner registers.  


"jb!" she gasps and turns around, running at mark's other best friend whom she loves dearly. he watched as she practically pounces on the boy, squeezing him against her chest. "jaejae-ah! did you eat?" she asks in korean. mark isn't fluent, but he understands well enough and he's spent enough time with her that he can get by in a conversation.  


"no, i woke up late and ran here only to find out that i was early." jb grumbles, glaring at mark.  


"hey!" wes snaps, "what's the point in the both of us knowing korean if we don't speak it with each other?"  


jb smirks at mark before slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. "i'll speak it with you if you become my girlfriend. i'll even have you screaming in it." he turns his greasy smile upwards as he looks at her. wes just laughs, ruffles his hair, and presses a kiss to his head.  


"whatever little man." she throws over her shoulder as she glides away from the two boys.  


"come here jae, i'll be your girlfriend." make holds his hand out for jb who takes it but not without some disgruntled complaints.  


"you're pretty mark, but you're not her." he mutters.  


"and i never will be." mark replies, trying his hardest to keep the rising laughter out of tone. he knows jb only chases wes because she's nice and pretty and he understands it. it's the same reason why he asked out samantha davis in the 9th grade. it was too bad for mark that she actually said yes.  


"i would never box you in like that." he jokes causing mark's on the rise laughter to explode out of him.  


"thanks so much man." jb laughs and leans his head against mark's shoulder.  


"speaking of," jb pipes up, "am i getting shirtless for the shoot?"  


"that's not a speaking of," mark chuckles, "but yes. you're getting shirtless today. why do you wanna know? you wanna oil up first?" he teases.  


"no," jb glances away, blush evident. "but i do wanna show off these bad boys." he smirks despite his red cheeks, yanking up his shirt. mark looks down at his stomach to see that his abs are back and bursts into laughter once more.  


"okay jae." he grins as he rubs jb's toned stomach and kisses his temple. "okay."

once the trio reach the studio in which mark works, he unlocks the door and they all pile in. mark and wes set up the studio in the attic while jb changes into the first pair of jeans in next room over. when he emerges, he's met with hoots and whistles that are mostly from wes. he blushes but he shows off anyway, flexing his muscles and strutting across the room to the window mark is waiting by.  


"how good do i look in these jeans?" he asks, spinning in a circle. "and i can move in them. i could probably..." he trails off and surveys the ground. he drops down quickly and performs a swipe or helicopter or whatever its called before standing up as calm as ever. "oh yeah. i am definitely keeping these jeans."  


"for fuck's sake," mark rolls his eyes, used to jb's dancing antics, "let's get on with it."

as mark photographs jb, he can't help admire the beauty that his best friend possess. jae reminds of a roman soldier with beautiful sun kissed skin and an insanely straight nose. he stands strong with muscles packed onto his body from years of dancing. his hair is a bewitching shade of black and so are his eyes. when he first met jb all those years ago, he was entranced by his fluid movements. he sketched one of his poses for hours until he finally got it right. he then gave it jb and instead of walking away as per usual, mark stood his ground and asked him for his number, but only as a friend. jb was 16 at the time and mark was (and still is) only thinking about wes. maybe in another life, but for now, mark is happy to be his friend and happy to photograph him.  


"dude are you looking my nipples?" jae asks as he relaxes on a stool.  


"maybe." mark chuckles as he does actually zoom in on his nipples. "they're pointy as hell."  


"well i am shirtless and it is a kinda cold in here." jb pouts as he tries to defend his pointy nipples.  


"don't justify your nipples man, just pose." mark laughs and pose he does. it was like jae was made to model. it's mind boggling how well jb can pose for a camera. mark doesn't get it, really. it's like his dancing personality comes out every time he sits in front of the camera. but mark loves it anyway.  


mark's favorite part of the shoot is when jae bites his lip and yanks at the thin chain around his neck. frankly, it's hot and the client will love it. they already love jb enough as it is, but this picture will drive them crazy.  


"are you trying to fuck me through the camera jae?" mark asks before he takes the picture.  


"why?" jb winks at mark and shoots him a greasy smile. "is it working? do you want this?" he gestures to his abs. mark gags loudly.  


"just shut up and take the picture." he grumbles making mark laugh. through his laughter though, he takes the picture. just as the flash goes off and the shutter clicks, a loud knocking sound is heard at the door.  


"wes? are yo-oh my god!"  


a crash to the floor is heard and then it's followed by groan. mark watches through the camera in slow motion as jb covers his chest, loses his balance, and falls to the floor. panicked, mark looks back at wes as she tends to the girl (why is she here?) on the floor.  


"go! go get jae!" she snaps in korean as she helps the girl stand up. mark goes over to jb and helps him sit up, checking his entire arm to make sure he's okay.  


"oh my god, dude! are you okay? does your arm hurt? is it broken?" he rambles, squeezing his friend's arm in random places.  


"i don't know! it doesn't feel broken, i just-" jb cuts himself off as he stares over mark's shoulder at something.  


"what? you just what?" mark places himself in jb's line of sight, anxious for an answer. he knows how much his body means to him. if it were to get injured during one of his shoots, he'd never forgive himself.  


"i'm fine," jb says slowly. "it's just hurts a little, but i'll be fine."  


"you sure?" mark double checks. he knows jb and he knows that he's the type to hide an injury. he's done it before and ended up in the hospital for it.  


"yeah i'm fine." he nods, looking at mark now and rubbing his shoulder.  


"okay. okay, i'll be right back." mark tells him as he gets up. he slow with his actions though, still watching jb, still trying to get a read on his face. he's acting strange and mark can't figure out why.  


when he gets outside the studio, he finds wes talking with the girl who interrupted the shoot, one hand in her hair and the other in her front pocket. elegant and beautiful as always. he approaches them and and places his hand on her back, relishing in the way she relaxes into him.  


"hey," he greets wes. now looking at the girl, he smiles and introduces himself. "hi i'm mark. i'm really sorry we had to meet this way and i'm sorry about jb, he can be a little overdramatic sometimes." the girl's eyes slide towards the door and mark takes this opportunity to really look at her and try to recognize her.  


she's quite tall with dark hair and eyes. she's tan and thin with sharp features, though they aren't as sharp as wes'. she's pretty and looks like a nice person. wes has definitely spoken about her before, but only in passing. her name is t-something?  


"i know who you are," she returns the smile almost immediately and sticks her hand for for him to shake. "i'm tobi! and i'm so sorry about your photoshoot, i didn't mean to interrupt you like that. it's been a rough day and if i messed anything up, pl-"  


"tobi, you're fine." wes cuts her off with a laugh. she takes her hand and clutches it tightly. "everything is fine, just promise you'll go to the nurse and make sure you don't have a concussion, okay?"  


"yeah," she replies, her eyes glazing over as she looks at wes. mark resists the urge to chuckle. no one is safe from wes' impregnable gravity field. everyone succumbs sooner or later. "i will."

"please do let her know if anything is wrong," mark urges, "i hate people getting hurt on my account."  


"i will," she nods. "and it was totally my fault, but i will." mark opens his mouth to object, but tobi is already walking away from them, waving goodbye.  


"bye guys! see you later wes!"  


"bye tobi! call me!"  


as tobi walks away, wes turns to mark with a smile on her face. "isn't she sweet?"  


"yeah," mark returns the smile as usual, "now let's go help the drama king."  


"if we must."  


after helping jb up, the photoshoot quickly ends. the bruise on his arm is too red to work with and mark doesn't want to risk any more accidents no matter how many times jae insists. mark won't risk his wellbeing. and he shouldn't either, but he's hardheaded and fearless.  


so with the end of the photoshoot, they part ways. jb is supposed to go to the nurse as per mark's request (he's probably going to dance practice) while he and wes are off the catch the elusive food truck that appears once a week and only caters to college students. wes found it once a few years ago and still claims that the food is legendary. mark is starting to think the truck is as well.

"are you sure you know where it is?" he asks, begrudgingly following her down a random path.  


"yes i am." she points in front of her, "it should be over there. don't you hear the people?" and he does, but his hunger is a bit louder.  


"can't i just sit down over there while you get the food?" he whines, gesturing to a bench.  


"hell no." wes deadpans, grabbing his wrist and pulling him further down the path. suddenly, an engine starts up and wes breaks into a run, dragging him with her.

"hurry! we'll miss it!"  


"i think it's okay if we do." he shouts after her, stopping his run and nearly collapsing onto his knees. if there is anything he hates in the world, it's running. he'll take any form of exercise over running, even fucking p90x.  


"come on mark, don't give up."he looks up to see her beautiful figure in front of him, a disapproving look on her face. she was always better than him at running. she often calls him an old man for not being able to keep up with other people their age.  


"i'm not giving up, i'm just refusing to exert myself any further." he tells her as he stands, shrugging.  


"no, you're giving up." she tells him, yanking on his arm. "now come on! please!" she implores.  


"nope," mark shakes his head and pulls her close to him. he scoops her up into his arms, forcing himself to ignore the good chills and the way she fits against him, and sets off to find so better, actually attainable food.  


she's oddly quiet in his arms and oddly still too. she's normally kicking and flailing his arms, but not this time. she's just staring at him. looking at him.  _ what is she doing? _ he thinks. then suddenly, she ghosts her fingers over his cheek and presses her lips there, paralyzing him with more chills and wonder and wide eyes.

"what was that for?" he finds himself asking even though he knows that he doesn't really care. he just want to feel her lips again. he just wants to feel her again.  


"i don't know," she shrugs. "i just...i...i'm sorry." she blushes loudly and glances away from him, sinking in his arms. his heart is pounding against his ribs and he fears that he's just going to spontaneously combust, but fuck is she worth it. she's always been fucking worth it.  


he presses his lips to her cheek, a chaste kiss with thousands of meanings. and that's just the beginning. a warm feeling explodes under mark's skin. he feels so hot, so incredibly hot. his heart is in overdrive and his sternum is cracking, he's sure of it. blood rushes past his ears and she's so beautiful. so fucking beautiful. wide, dark eyes and parted lips. innocence and confusion and surprise. and mark is screaming on the inside. screaming songs of passion; screaming cries of pain; screaming her name. god it hurts, but god does he love it. but he can't do anything about it. he refuses to anything about it. this is too new. too special. he can't sully it. he won't.  


so he doesn't. he grips her even tighter in his arms and presses his face into her neck. he finds that it fits there and the warm feeling threatens to overcome him once more. he forces it down as he rocks her in his arms slightly. "don't apologize, never apologize." once again, his voice is quieter than the wind and secrets and whispers in the dead of night. if she hears him, she doesn't say anything. she just cradles his head and holds him together.  


when mark gathers himself, he sets off again, wes still in his arms and his heart still pounding. together, they find an ice cream truck. she gets a double vanilla cone while he gets a powerpuff girl popsicle. normally she'd make fun of him and then steal a bubblegum eyeball, but this time she just looks at him and looks into him. something on her clearly on her mind and it's something she'll find the courage to say later.  


they eat in silence, hands latched and eyes only for one another. she's gorgeous even as she eats; even as she walks; even as she stares at him. he's always been aware her beauty, but this warm feeling has him just wanting to stare at her for hours on end. it has him wanting to observe her every single move. sure, he would get in moods where everything she did would fascinate him, but this isn't like any other mood. he's bursting at the fucking seams, he swears and he can't do anything but hold her hand and stare. mark doesn't even realize that he's led her to his spot until she gasps and runs ahead of him to willow tree under which he takes refuge from the world.  


"the tree!" she gasps, running her hand over a branch.  


"you know about it?" she turns to him, the widest smile on her lips. he's hot again and his insides are mush.  


"of course i do. i sit there and watch you." she points at a cluster of tables across from the tree.  


"when?" he asks. she has a class during the time he sits under the tree.  


"that class always lets out early, so i come out here and watch you." she blushes and looks at the ground. "i do work when sit there. i'm not just watching you. i just find it interesting to see you draw." she finally meets his eyes and fuck is he going to explode.  


he wipes a palm against his jeans and shifts his weigh from foot to foot, trying to contain himself. he's nervous and excited. the idea of wes watching him like he watches her is overwhelming to say the least. he just wants to take wrap her up his arms and mold his body around hers and hold her like that for hours. what is this feeling? and why can't he do anything about it?

"do you wanna sit under it with me?" he forces himself to ask, hands clasping his shirt tightly.  


she smiles widely, the sun bouncing off of it and blinding him, and nods, hair flying wildly. and he melts, boy does mark melt. he starts to sag into the grass and barely makes it to the tree trunk. he leans against it heavily and slides down it until he hits the ground. she leans over him with concerned eyes and oh god does he want to hold her.  


"are you okay?" he ignores her question and beckons her to the ground.  


"yeah, just come...let me..." he trails off, swallowing as he looks up at her. what a vision, what a fucking vision.  


she sinks down in between his legs, amusement and confusion on her face. "let you what?" she asks.  


mark ignores her question once more and turns her around so her back is against his chest and wraps his arms around her, fitting his body around hers. fuck does he fit. he sighs into her hair and pulls her even closer to him. and he finds that he fits even better with his head buried into the back of her neck, his arms locked around her waist, and his legs crossed under her knees. god does he love it.  


so they sit there in silence, the breeze blowing and wes humming idle tunes to songs they've long forgot the words to. and he's happy. so unbelievably happy. he finally has her after years of waiting, years of chickening out. and he loves it he loves it he loves it. why didn't he do this sooner?  


"why did it take us this long?" wes asks, completing his thought.  


"hm?" she turns around in his arms and takes his hand, eyes staring deeply into him.  


"why did it take us this long?" she repeats her question. this must be what she didn't have the courage to ask earlier. mark blinks and leans back against the tree.  


with that question, his mind is flying back through dates and places until he's scrawny and 12 again, sitting across from a mysterious girl in art class. it's a new quarter and in middle school, that means new electives. mark chooses art class while all his friends choose gym or a computer class, leaving him virtually alone. when he walks into the class, he sees an empty seat across from a girl who radiates angry. he isn't deterred however and sits down anyway. while they're sketching a horizon, the girl suddenly snaps her pencil in two. for some reason, he feels compelled to find out why.  


"what's wrong?" he asks, coming out of his shell and speaking first.  


"i hate this. it's too hard, i don't understand, and i don't even wanna be here." she grumbles. "my stupid teacher made me."  


"well just 'cause you don't wanna be here doesn't mean that it's hard." he reasons. she just looks at him with enough salt in her eyes to kill him.  


"what?" that venomous reply almost causes him to swallow his words. nevertheless, he stands and slides into the seat next to her, taking her hand.  


"just because you don't understand doesn't mean you can't do it." he presses her broken pencil to her paper, guiding her, showing her. "just take it slow."  


she smiles at him then, mouth full of metal and abrupt happiness. and right then and there, mark suddenly wants to get to know her and maybe hang out with her sometime.  


then his mind jumps to age 15 where he's still scrawny, but taller and with spikier hair. it's the week before homecoming and since he's a freshman, he's eager to go. he looks nice today with an ironed polo, clean sneakers, and his good jeans. he's got an origami rose in one hand, two tickets in the other, and wes on his mind. they're good friends, best friends even. but he kind of wants to change that and he's going to start with homecoming.  


as he approaches her locker, a strange sight comes into view. her locker is closed and she's leaning against it, a book clutched to her chest as she stares up at the only guy in their grade taller than her. terry jackson. she's had a crush on him for a long while, but never worked up the nerve to ask him out. so when mark sees this, he can only deduce one thing. terry is asking her to homecoming and she's saying yes. it's a special moment that mark refuses to ruin.  


_ good for her,  _ he tells himself, falling into his best friend ways,  yeah...good for her . so he pretends he doesn't see them and walks right past them to samantha davis' locker. she's pretty (not as pretty as wes he feels) and always talks to him in english class, so maybe she'll make a nice date in place of wes.  


next is 16. he's a sophomore with a deeper voice and some muscle on his skinny frame. he and samantha have been dating for a whole year and they both feel it's time for sex. wes and terry are experiencing the same predicament. one night while both respective partners are out of town, the two finally have another sleepover. the major problem in their lives arises and falling into their best friend habits, they begin to talk it out; starting brave but quickly tapering into awkwardness and hushed tones.  


"so do you, uh, masturbate?" she asks him, leaning against her bed and fiddling with stuffed animal.  


"yeah," mark replies, pulling at spare sock thread. "do you?"  


"yeah." she pauses and glances at him, quick and uneasy. "could you tell me what feels good so i can try it on terry?"  


"mhm." he nods. "could you tell me what feels good so i can try it on samantha?"  


"yup." and through red cheeks and sideways glances they share tips and tricks until it's way past their supposed bedtime. later that night as mark lays on the floor, he feels a hot sensation come over his body. he can't breathe, can't think, and sure as hell can't sleep. his eyes drift towards the hand that dangles above his face belonging to the girl in the bed beside him and it gets him wondering. it gets him wondering if maybe he could lose his virginity to wes, then he'd be less nervous for samantha. or if maybe he engaged in this intimate act with wes, then he'd finally leave samantha and finally spend time with the girl who dominates his thoughts 24/7.  


then he's 18. still scrawny as hell, but lean from all the heavy lifting he does on the weekends working at home depot. his hair is a little longer now and he's given up the spikes. he instead pushes it up and to the side, a style he feels makes him look a little cooler.  


it's prom night and his once unified group is now scattered. wes is in the bathroom, samantha is dancing with her girls to their song, and terry is hanging with his basketball buddies. mark is left by himself at their table, doodling on a napkin and picking at a cupcake. then a girl touches his shoulder and tells him that wes needs him in the bathroom. of course, being her best friend he goes, very very quickly.  


when he gets there, he finds that the problem is a wardrobe malfunction. the hook on her zipper is busted and she needs him to resew it. all the girls have long, fake nails and who would be better than him with the artists' hands and nimble fingers? so he sews her up. the girls in the bathroom leave in a rush to get back to their once in a lifetime prom and leave them alone.  


"did i tell you how gorgeous you look tonight?" he says, keenly aware that terry should be the one saying it instead of him. but then again, did terry even compliment her? did he even look at her? because she does look gorgeous. in a long gown of silver, she looks like a dream come to life. descended from the sky itself, she is an angel among commoners, floating about and catching everyone's attention. no other girl dressed in silver. no other girl even thought about silver. but wes did and she perfected it. with her hair done up in a simple knot and light accessories, she simply glows in the hundreds of lights. she is clinquant; shimmering, glittering, mind boggling.  


"no, but thank you." her voice is warm from the compliment and mark smiles. then the door swings open. samantha and terry stand on the other side of it, shocked at the sight before them. mark standing behind wes, her dress seemingly open and his hands dangerously close to her body. mark and wes both know what it looks like but they can't do anything to dissuade their significant others.  


terry yells something about mark being bastard and wes being a lying bitch. samantha throws her clutch and screams about how she always knew  _ shealwaysknew _ that mark had a thing for wes. the both of them then leave, angry and exasperated. mark feels strangely okay, but for some reason expects wes to start crying. however, she just blinks and turns to face him, a calm look on her face.  


"fuck 'em," she tells him. "they obviously didn't trust us so fuck 'em."  


so he does just that. he finishes sewing her up and then they go back out to the gossiping masses. not so surprisingly, they win prom king and queen and as they dance with tarnished crowns and tattered sashes, mark feels free for the first time years. he tells wes this and she agrees with him, causing the both of them to get a little too loose and not arrive home until monday morning.  


it's later that summer now and mark is stuck in san diego while wes is in korea. so far it's been the hardest summer of mark's life. without wes by his side, everything a little boring. he misses her. a lot. she makes life a little more endurable. he realizes that he needs her. so much so that he starts to see her in everyone and everything. in the wind, the sand, the flowers. the guys he spends the nights with and girls he shoots the breeze with. wes is everywhere. everywhere but with him and frankly, it's depressing. so when he picks her up from the airport and she sprints to him, crashing into his body, throwing her arms around his neck and fitting into him, he smiles like crazy and vows to never take her company for granted again. because without it, without  _ her _ , he would surely be lost.  


fast forward and he's 20 again. they're in his apartment drunk off of borrowed wine and time. she makes a confession. she's not completely straight and has been kissing everyone since she was 17. he makes a confession. he's not completely straight and has been kissing boys since 18. it's funny and they laugh. his is high and thin while hers is deep and full.  


they trade experiences that have them both laughing to the point of tears and then it happens. mark leans too close to brush a hair out of wes' eyes when he notices her lips. when he notices her wine stained lips and how it would be nice to kiss them.  


but he chickens out. he always chickens out. he mumbles a drunken apology and places his head in her lap instead, opting out. copping out. chickening out.  


what would have happened if he didn't chicken out all those times? would they be like they are now? what about further along in the future? or would they have stayed together forever?  


mark looks at her now and shrugs, giving an honest answer. "i don't know." he tells her. "i don't know, but i'm glad we're doing it now."  


and then he kisses her for the second time, slow and unyielding. her skin is soft in his hands and she tastes like cream. warm winds ruffle their hair and the petals invoking a shower around them.  


it's magical. she's magical. they're magical.  


he pulls her towards him as he kisses her. he fits himself against her, fits him into her, just like he always has and always will.  


"me too." she mutters against him. into him; into his heart, his mind, his soul. "me too."  



	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka the we're still on that date and everything is much better because of it and can this day please last forever? au
> 
> teaser: "i don't want this day to end."

"so what do you want to eat?" she asks mark as they stroll down the main street of downtown, happy yet hungry.

"i don't know, whatever you want to eat." he tells her, actually being truthful. it's sappy, he knows, but he doesn't care what he's eating as long as he gets to sit across from her and relish in their entwined legs.

"oh come on," she sighs, stopping in front him and turning around, "don't give me that. your stomach growled first. you have dibs." which is true. his stomach did growl first, rudely interrupting them and according to tradition, he has dibs on their next meal. he's always stayed true to that tradition, until now. until her.

"wes," he says, smoothing her hair back from her face and cradling her jaw in one mentally practiced movement. "i don't care what we eat. just as long as i'm with you, i don't care." he stresses, staring deeply into her eyes. the sun turns them into pools of molasses flecked with ginger and her skin is the color of fully bloomed sunflowers. and when she blushes like right now, it's like roses slowly opening up to the sun and mark can't, he just can't. so he doesn't. he holds her face and represses every urge in his body to crush her against his body and fit his face into her neck and hug her until all of eternity passes.

"okay," she replies, breathless and flushed and beautiful, "okay."

"okay." and mark slowly lets his fingertips slide down her jaw and neck and down her arms until he reaches her hands, relishing in the feel of her skin and the feel her body under her clothing. "pick a place and take me there."

then his mouth cuts off from his brain and he adds, "i'll follow you anywhere." which he means with all his heart. he'd follow her to the ends of the earth just as long as he got to keep being with her. nothing else would matter.

"you can't possibly mean that," she mutters, glancing away from him with crimson cheeks and he'd laugh if his heart wasn't pounding against his ribs so hard. they've been together for 10 years and she still hasn't realized?

"but i do," he slides his arm across her shoulders and they begin walking down the street again. "i'll follow you anywhere and everywhere wes. you've never steered me wrong and you never will."

"but what if i steer you wrong one day?" she asks and his heart pounds a little at the thought of her thinking about their future together. he stuffs his other hand into his pocket to ignore the sweating.

"you won't," he replies, careful to keep his voice light to mask the shaking and careful to prevent himself from blurting out any unwonted thoughts. "i trust you."

"start trusting me after you see where i want to eat." she laughs, slipping an arm around his waist and hopefully ignoring the sudden tense in his muscles and little gasp that slips from his mouth.

a few detours later, they arrive at mark's favorite thai restaurant. they've dined there so many times that it's gotten to the point where they know everyone by name, even the owner's children who frequent the place during the school year. mark has helped the younger son with his addition and subtraction while wes has helped the older daughter ask a out a girl she liked at the time. the restaurant is their home away from home away from home.

when they walk inside, they're greeted with various shouts of ' _hello_ ', ' _nice to see you again_ ', and mark's all time favorite, ' _find someplace else to eat_ ' said by the owner himself, a kind man named tim who loves the two college students despite shouting that remark at them every time they open the door.

"hi tim." wes smiles, skipping up to the counter and leaning over it to press a kiss to tim's presented cheek. he laughs and takes her hand in his, patting it.

"it's good to see you again wes." he turns his gaze on mark, trying to suppress a smile. "i hope you're treating her right boy."

"she's not worthy of me, but i try my best." mark replies, throwing his arm around wes' shoulders and tucking her into him. she wraps her arms around his waist, slotting her body against his and mark feels the urge to melt all over again. they fit so damn well together and it's driving him mad. she smells like lavender and unbroken promises and he just wants to hold her so damn bad. but, like always, he can't. so he doesn't. instead, he forces himself to focus on tim's wavering frown and everything he can do to try and turn it into a smile.

"come on tim, you know you'd rather have wes hang out with me rather than anyone else. i know her worth," mark then pauses and glances at wesleigh, grinning widely. "and her thai order." he winks and that seems to win tim's approval as he grabs mark's hand and begins shaking it vigorously.

"it's good to see you back son, we've missed you." he tells mark. looking at the two of them he adds, "the both you. especially the kids. we're going to have to get you two back up at the house sometime soon. the pool just got installed and--"

"timothy, honey, if you don't give them a break, they'll wither away here." tim's wife, violet, cuts him off as she walks through around the counter and up to the couple, hugging them both tightly.

"we've missed you, some definitely more than others." she quips, looking at her husband. he just shrugs at her pointed observation and then gathers a few menus, handing them to her. she turns back to mark and wes with a smile on her face. "will the usual table do?"

the pair nods and then follows her to their designated spot, a small table in the back by the kitchen. it was hidden from view and relatively quiet so it was the perfect spot for them to sneak wine, talk shit on professors, or study over khao khluk kapi.

once they sit down and get a glass of water, violet walks straight into the kitchen, not even bothering to take their order. it's not like they order anything different anyway.

after a moment of watching wes fix her hair and sip on her drink, mark reaches across the table and takes her hand, smiles at her.

"so tell me about yourself." her eyes go wide as if she's caught in headlights. mark stifles a laugh.

"what? why?"

"this is a first date, we're supposed to learn about each other." he says, leaning back in his chair and gesturing between them.

"but you already know everything about me." she replies quickly.

"no i don't." he says just as quick. she purses her lips at him and then rolls her eyes. he lets out a little chuckle at that.

"i'm pretty sure you do, i mean you were there for my first period mark." and he shudders visibly. they were 13 and swimming at jimmy wu's pool. everyone else was inside, fawning over how rich he was and letting him show off. wes didn't care and promptly stripped out of her blue sundress and dove into the water. after a few moments of carefree splashing, wes got out to grab some water when she looked down and screamed. mark saw a very large amount of blood, nearly dry heaved, and then scrambled out of the pool to call 911 a.k.a her sister.

"we're at a restaurant wes, don't bring that day up. it was very nauseating."

"for you or me?" she asks with a quirk of an eyebrow. now it's his turn to roll his eyes as she is clearly trying to get a rise out of him. but it works because he instantly snaps back with, "the both of us, i've never seen blood like that."

"that makes two of us." her smirk turns into a full blown smile and mark just melts into his seat, shaking his head at the beauty before him.

"wow, you are such a pleasant first date, you know that?" and she laughs so musically that he melts even more.

"yes i do, i've been told i'm very fun to be with."

"who could possibly be lying to you like that?"

"you," she holds up one finger, "you," she adds another and mark can see where this is going now, "oh and let's see...you!"

"oh my god, this is a terrible first date. should we end it early?" he stands up slightly in his seat and she quickly reaches out for him, taking both his hands and tugging on them.

"no, wait! i'll tell you something, just....stay." her tone is so pleading to the point where he hates that he loves it.

"you don't have to if you don't want to, we can sit in silence. i might stare at you, but that's whatever." which he honestly doesn't mind, he could stare at her all the damn day. he's about to tell her that, but the way she shakes her head fervently, volumes of hair flying everywhere and a frown set upon those pretty lips.

"no no no, i want to talk to you. i'm just nervous." she finally reveals her true feelings by letting out a high titter that usually happens when she's nervous, "being on a first date with you is making me go crazy."

his jaw drops and so does his ass in the seat because, "oh please, if you're going crazy, i'm going insane." he's been in love with her for years upon years, he can't breathe when she smiles at him, he wants to melt when he touches her. he's absolutely positively insane.

"it shouldn't be this way." she slumps in her seat, the frown turning into the cutest pout, "we're best friends for fucks sake. we're never awkward."

mark straight up laughs at this because, "well i beg to differ. remember the time that i walked into that room at kenzie miller's house and you and-"

"oh my god," she squeals, covering ears, "we're not going to do this right now."

"but we were awkward then. i'm just giving you an example." he shrugs.

"yes, but i don't want to be awkward now that we're dating." she replies, taking his hand and mark's heart skips a beat with that word. dating. it sounds so wonderful and beautiful and like everything he's been wanting for the past 10 years. he loves it, loves it, loves it. the word is flowing through his veins and wrapping around his heart and squeezing so tightly that he's sure he is going to burst. and if he does, then he doesn't care. as long as wes is holding his hand, nothing else matters.

"okay," he replies, the largest grin splitting his face, "okay."

then she presses the softest kiss to his hand and he loses control a little bit because he cups her face then, he takes her face in his hands and kisses her. well tries to anyway because tim rudely interrupts them by throwing a paper towel roll at mark's head and shouting " _no kissing wesleigh in my restaurant!_ " but that laughter that ensues is so fucking worth it.

after they absolutely gorge themselves on tim's wonderful cooking and hang around for another hour after that, the pair finally leaves, making promises to come back soon.

"so where should we go now?" wes asks mark, turning to face him on a street corner.

he looks at her then and takes in the image of her with the sun on her face, red steeples of the bridge reaching into the sky, and greenery at full blast behind her. and then he forms an idea.

"come on," he grabs her hand and begins dragging her in the direction of the bridge.

"what are you doing?" a bubble of surprised laughter fills the street. mark eagerly returns it and continues pulling her down the street.

"come on," he insists, "i have an idea, so just come on." and then he breaks into a run to catch the nearest cable car, wes next to him the entire way.

a little too warm and out of breath, they finally collapse into seats after sprinting to a departing car. mark pulls out his camera and holds it up the them. "say tourists on three!"

wes gets his idea instantly and smiles widely, letting out a loud "tourists on three!" much to the dismay of the actual tourists and city natives on the car.

then the next few hours of their lives blur together into them walking across the bridge and back and timing it; standing on the beach, pushing each other into the water; having cheesy photoshoots at most of the landscapes around the western part of the city. they were obnoxious, annoying, and totally happy.

mark's favorite part of the day is the very end when they're sitting on an abandoned pier, staring at the sun set over the city. wes is resting her head on his shoulder and humming a nonsensical tune that mark is somehow falling in love with.

he slips an arm around her waist and pulls her closer, catching her lips in a kiss. her hum breaks off into a chuckle as she grins against his mouth. "i love this." she mutters.

"so do i." mark replies.

her smile quickly drops as she opens her eyes. "i don't want this day to end."

mark's heart stutters and he swallows at the sudden lump in his throat. "oh baby, why not?"

"that," she presses a finger against his chest, a melancholy smile on her face, "that right there! this day is so perfect and i just don't want it to end!" and then she does that thing she does when she's frustrated. she scrunches up her nose and mouth and her eyes get all crinkly to the point mark lets out a loud laugh because it's so fucking cute.

"mark! oh come on," she tries to frown, but gives in as usual, giggles pouring from her mouth.

"wes, baby, this doesn't have to end!" when she rolls her eyes, mark takes her hands and makes her look at him, "i'm serious, yeah we have to go back home, but we can go back to my place--"

"oh _your_ place?" she interrupts, tone flirty and eyebrows wiggling.

"i'm serious," he laughs despite himself, "we can have hot chocolate and i think i have mini doughnuts and i _know_ i have vodka and we can just sit and talk until we pass out."

and then she's laughing even harder for absolutely no reason and mark loves it so much that he pulls her even closer and plants a desperate kiss on her jaw. he was aiming for her mouth, but her laugh is just as sweet.

after finally calming down, mark finally manages to get wes off of the pier and in the direction of their apartments. it takes forever for them to get there due to picture moments, hunger, and general insanity, but when they finally do, mark guides wes up to his apartment and opens the door with a little flourish.

"ta-da!" he gestures to the place with a little flutter of his hands. wes instantly puts on her acting face and practically tiptoes in the room, glancing around with a demure look on her face.

"should i take my shoes off?"

"oh please, go right ahead." he closes the door behind her and watches, absolutely amused, as she awkwardly kicks off her shoes and pads out into the living room.

"wow," she remarks as she looks around, "it's very you." and mark just bursts into laughter.

his apartment is clean, but haphazard with it's thrifted furniture, old posters, and blank canvases, all stained with paint. empty crates make up end tables and an ottoman and an old armoire mark "stole" from his grandmother houses a tv. it's homey, lived in, but he likes it that way.

"you helped me pick out most of this stuff, so drop the act." he chuckles, walking up to wes and engulfing her in a hug.

"it's our first date!" she says in way of protest, covering her face with her hands, "i'm supposed to act all shy and stuff!"

"so what? i can still do this," he noses past her weak defense and presses a kiss to forehead, "or this," another kiss to her cheek, "or this." he mutters, pressing a last kiss to her lips.

she groans loudly, pushing away from him and stalking into the kitchen. "i'm going to need a drink if i'm to deal with you!"

"be careful babe, you might become an alcoholic." mark laughs as he follows her.

"oh shut up!" she pouts, "now where the hell is your vodka, you said you had some."

"it's in the freezer, you know that's where i keep it."

"well sorry," she grumbles while opening up his freezer and pulling out a bottle followed by two glasses, "maybe i forgot that you keep in the freezer instead of a liquor cabinet or the kitchen counter like a normal college kid."

"it tastes better that way." mark shrugs as he slides onto the counter. she just chuckles and hands him his shot.

"kampai?" she tilts the glass towards him as way of cheers.

knocking his glass against her, he returns the saying, "kampai!"

after downing their shots, wes steps between his legs and presses a long kiss to his lips, pausing to suck on his lower lip slightly. "i personally think it tastes better off of your lips."

then she backs up, grabbing the vodka bottle and throws a nod in the direction of the living room. "now find those mini doughnuts and meet me in there."

and as much as mark doesn't want to admit it to himself, it takes him more than a few minutes to unstick his body from the counter due to two things. wes is hot as fuck and he doesn't actually know if he has those doughnuts.

but when he finally does make it into the living room, he nearly melts all over again just because of the way wes is lying on the couch. she's taken her jacket off and tossed over the ottoman and is lying on her back, idly staring up at the ceiling. her shirt has risen up around her waist and her hair is hanging over the edge and she just looks so damn _right_ that it's driving mark crazy.

he wants her on the couch, in the kitchen, in his room. he wants her everywhere.

he doesn't even try to stop himself as he walks over to her, grabbing the vodka bottle with one hand and taking her hand in the other, practically hauling her into his room. if it bothers her, she doesn't say a single thing as she walks over to his bed and sits on it, cocking an eyebrow at him. she looks at him like that for a long moment before finally finally speaking.

"did you bring me in here to sex me up?"

and mark blushes, looking at he ground. but it's not even because she said the word 'sex'. mark knows about sex. he knows sex.

he lost his virginity to samantha davis in 10th grade and then again to nat williams the summer before sophomore year in college when wes was away in England. he brought a guy to tears with his 'artist' touches and made a girl scream so loud, her voice cracked and was sore for days. so mark is well versed in the art of undoing bra straps and removing boxers with the most sensuous of touches. so, once again, it's not even about the word sex. it's about the person he wants to do it with.

wes.

it's about her and how she works and what makes her scream and what she likes and what her kinks are. it's about wes, just as it always has been.

he looks up from the ground and smiles at her, a single end of his lip tilting upwards. "if i wanted to sex you up right now," he pauses and licks his lips, "i would've done it already."

she looks at him for a moment. eyes narrowing, mouth open, tongue peeking out to touch her canine. and she nods. "you're good."

"so i'm told." he laughs, sticking his hands in his pockets and walking towards her.

"and cocky!" she rolls her eyes. he glances down and grins even wider, full of shit and inappropriate jokes.

"i'm very full of it."

"now i'm starting to think you really do want to sex me up." she chuckles as he stops in front of her.

"and i'm starting to think you want it too."

she shakes her head and snorts, but the widening of her pupils and the blush in her face is noted by mark. he smiles and shakes his head. she wants him just as bad as he wants her, but they both know they should wait.

"just...shut up and show me your art."

so he does. he pulls out a random portfolio from last year and opens it on the floor, spreading out various pieces.

he finds it funny to watch his muse go through pieces that all very clearly represent her. she keeps making comments on different aspects of the pieces, like the color or the way he painted it. she doesn't have a single clue. he wants to tell her so bad, but also wants to keep her in suspense for a little while longer.

mark does tell her about one piece though. the one where she's made up completely of flowers and sitting on a cloud. he feels that he has to with the way she's staring at it like it's the most eye-opening drawing she's seen in years. in his eyes, he could've done better or at least used his sketchbook instead of a random slip of notebook paper. but wes seems to love it so he just has to. anything for her...everything for her.

"that's you y'know," he says, simply gesturing to the piece. a soft gasp leaves her mouth as the paper flutters in her hands.

"what?"

"it's you," he says again, trying to stifle some laughter.

"but how?" she slips off of the bed and kneels down next to him. "tell me, tell me, tell me!" she begs, waving the paper in front of his face.

"alright!" he chuckles, wrapping his arm around her and tucking her into his side. "i'll tell you."

she does that happy squeal thing and then giggles, resting her head on his shoulder.

"okay," he begins, mind drifting back to last year when they had a rare class together.

he was watching her, as per usual, as she argued with the professor about Disney theories or something like that. the way light hit her through the window made her look so incredibly soft, like flowers, and so he just had to draw her as such. golden sunflowers, black roses, and red poppies.

"sometimes you look soft to me, like flowers in a meadow, so i decided to draw you like that, as if you were made up of them."

he lifts a hand to caress her cheek. "skin like sunflowers, hair like roses," his eyes drop to her mouth and don't leave it, "poppies for lips."

she blushes loudly and suppresses a smile as she says, "who knew art could turn you into such a smooth talker."

mark pulls her closer, a ghost of a smirk on his lips, "i did."

"oh, shut up mark tuan," she mutters, moving onto his lap. it takes all the self control he has not to actually sex her up right now.

so instead he wraps his arms around her waist, going, "make me wesleigh moon."

"i will." she replies, her voice barely above a whisper. her pupils are blown wide and he's sure that his are too.

"oh really?" his voice is gone as well.

"yeah."

then she does....and doesn't stop for a long, long time.

and it feels so goddamn right.

  
after a few hours of making out and talking about everything and nothing, the clock hits 1:00 and wes, the ever dutiful student, reminds mark that they have classes in the morning. and despite wanting to keep her in his apartment forever and ever, mark agrees that they do have to go to class in the morning.

so he walks her up to her apartment, clutching on her hand the entire time. when they reach her door, he wraps her into another hug, kissing her neck lightly. she lets out a breathy laugh and hugs him back, rubbing his back and humming that same nonsensical tune.

"i'd invite you inside..." she trails off.

"but i'd never leave," he finishes.

"and neither would i," she adds, placing a kiss on his temple. "but i have to go now, so let me go, yeah?"

"okay," mark groans, reluctantly letting her go so she can open her door. but before she can step inside, mark turns her around and kisses her, long and deep before stepping away and letting her finally go inside.

"i hate you for that!" she calls after him as he walks back towards the stairs, a huge smile on his face.

"no you don't." he replies over his shoulder.

"fuck you," she laughs, "see you tomorrow though."

and he can't help but turn around at that, watching her disappear into her apartment, the word tomorrow echoing in the empty hall.

_tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow._

mark has never loved a word so much.


	5. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the i'm sorry, i want to do this, but they're staring and i can't...i just can't do this? au
> 
> teaser: "they stare wes...and it drives me crazy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh!!! i'm not dead (if you actually care lol) i just yknow.....graduated high school, moved twice, and started college about 3000 miles away from beloved friends and family ;') but i finally got my shit together and finished part 5!!! i also think it's been a year since i started writing this, so happy belated anniversary to me??? 
> 
> srsly, if you're reading this and you're a fan of this, then thank you. i like it when i log onto ao3 and see the hits go up. also shoutout to J, the first and only commenter, you gave me a lot of happiness even though you commented in like april and it's now october lol. anyways, thanks for the support and happy reading! :-*

 

 

 

mark wakes up in the morning with a smile on his face. an actual fucking smile. he hasn't woken up with a smile on his face since he was 18 and graduating high school. but today is so different and he knows exactly why.

today, wes is his girlfriend.

_his_ girlfriend. his _girlfriend_ . _his girlfriend_.

yesterday, it was up in the air. the day before that? forget about it. but today....today she is finally his.

and that puts a massive smile on mark's face.

he practically hops out of bed, not even caring that he's awake a full hour before he's supposed to be. he slides one of his friend's mixtape into his outdated cd player, cranks up the volume, and actually dances his way through the morning.

he spends an extra five minutes in the shower, making sure to really clean himself. when he gets out, he lotions so to that wes can wrap a hand around his arm and talk about how _soft_ his skin is in that flirty voice that makes his knees weak. and then he spends time to make sure his hair is perfect by blow-drying it instead of messily dragging a towel over it. then he picks up the bottle of cologne _wes_ bought for him and spends the next five minutes spraying himself so strategically so that wes hugs him, kisses him, does whatever, she'll get a whiff of it and hopefully pull him into a hug and bury her head into his neck.

deciding on what to wear isn't a troublesome ordeal this morning either. he just grabs the jeans wes likes (they make his ass look great), a white tee to go under a white button down (she loves white), and his trusty old leather jacket (just because her name is on it).

sliding (yes, _sliding_ ) into the kitchen, mark pulls out a jug of cold tea and then another one full of milk and begins to make his mom's special milk tea. one for him, one for his _girlfriend_ , and one for his jaebum who always wants one, but never finishes it before running to the bathroom.

after double checking his bag and putting the drinks in a carrier, mark shoves his old docs onto his feet and just about skips out of the door. outside he's met with a little foil package with a note attached to it.

' _hey mark! sounds like you had a good morning! that mixtape is dope just like this muffin i made. it's your favorite so enjoy! oh and meet me at the table! xx wes'_

it's short and sweet, but so full of wes wes _wes_ that it makes mark's heart soar.

the fifteen minute walk to campus is fairly short considering that mark has actual motivation for once. at the pace he walks at, he makes it only ten minutes, maybe less.

when he finally arrives at the table, wes is sat on the top of it, naturally surrounded by her many admirers. for a second, a split second, mark thinks he's going to have to fight his way to her, but then she catches sight of him and immediately stops talking with what's-his-face, and sends him the most brilliant smile ever.

    "mark-ah!" she calls in korean, "hurry!"

    "coming my queen," he replies in mandarin. she pretends to gag, but the gleam in her eyes tells him that she likes it. _good_ , he thinks, _i'll call her that more often._

the crowd parts at her words and he nearly falls to his knees. of course, she looks gorgeous. of course of course _of course_! in a white dress that showcases her wonderful shoulders and these little shoes the show off her long, golden legs and on top of that, she wearing the jacket. the same leather jacket as mark and it's draped over her shoulders and her sunglasses are nestled in her hair and she looks so breathtaking that mark actually forgets to breathe. he might even be drooling at this point.

nevertheless, he approaches her while also hoping to god and back that his blush isn't as noticeable as he thinks it is.

when he reaches her, mark also slides onto the table and gives her a bottle of tea and a straw. she grins and presses a quick kiss to his cheek that makes him nearly choke. "thank you mark-ah," she coos. he blushes even louder and just nods his head.

the conversation around them resumes within a few seconds; someone asks wes where she gets her clothes from and then a whole slew of compliments follow soon after. they aren't wrong. she's an absolute dream.

wes just laughs at everyone and takes a sip of her tea. mark doesn't miss the way her ears turn bright red and takes the opportunity to tweak one and teasingly whisper, "you look beautiful."

    "kiss ass." she mutters, nudging his shoulder with hers. he chuckles and tucks a stray hair behind her ear.

    "only for you," he replies, watching her ears turn an even brighter red.

    "fuck off mark," she tries to deadpan, but one wink from him has her dissolving into laughter.

    "wes must be the only one who laughs at your jokes," someone, mark thinks the guy's name might be kevin, calls out. he was monopolizing wes' attention when mark arrived and is probably eager to get it back somehow.

    "as long as someone does," mark shrugs, flashing kevin a shit-eating grin because _i got to make out with her and you didn't_ is chorusing in the back of his mind.

    "such a positive outlook," may or june or whatever her name is, says while leaning forward and resting her hand on mark's knee.

    "i’d hate to tear you away from wes," mark doesn't miss the way may/june's eyes slide towards wes in a very appreciative manner, "but could i bother you for a camera rec? my brother is really into photography and i want to get him a good birthday present."

    "oh yeah, you can totally bother me for that," mark laughs and then lets himself get caught in the pre-class bustle. normally, he'd have his head in a book or try to power nap on wes' shoulder, but the day is so bright and wes is right by his side, so what could go wrong?

eventually, jae meets up with mark and wes, literally pushing his way through everyone. mark is lucky enough to catch it on camera, thanks to may/june prompting him to pull it out.

    "make room, real best friend coming through," he calls out, even nudging may/june out of her spot next to mark.

    "way to be rude jae," mark chuckles, shaking his head but not the camera. it's like jb is still 16, all gung-ho and outspoken without a care. it's endearing. at times.

    "what?" jae shrugs, really playing it up for camera. "it's not like you were talking about anything important." besides him, may/june actually looks appalled.

    "she asked me for a camera rec."

    "so you gave her the name and proceeded to ramble on about the entire camera picking process, right?" jb asks, even raising an eyebrow. mark doesn't reply since he knows jae is right and zooms in on his face instead. he goes over the two moles on his eyelid and down his sharp nose until he reaches jae’s mouth which parts into a blinding smile.

    "see? i was right, wasn't i?" jae then proceeds to singsong in korean "i was right, i was right, i was right."

    "fuck off you dork," mark laughs.

    "you're the dork with all your fancy camera talk," jae grumbles. at this point, may/june finally turns her attention elsewhere and mark is lowkey relieved. he can always count on jb to distract others away from him.

    "it's a good camera," marks says, trying to defend himself.

    "save it for the camera hoes," jae presses a finger to mark's forehead, pushing his entire head back, "now move your big head. i can't see wes."

    "i'm right here jaejae," wes leans forward, straw sticking out of one side of her mouth. she looks absolutely comical and mark has to take a picture. he quickly ends the video and switches to camera mode, snapping a picture. "and mark's head isn't that big."

    "hey _noona_ ," jae turns into mush, a dumb smile crossing his face as he catches sight of wes. mark takes a picture of that too. which turns out to be a good thing because a second later, jb's chin has pushed itself out, making his annoyance known. "hey! camera hoe! stop blocking my view."

    "firstly, little man," marks coos making jae blush red, "i am the view and secondly, would you speak this way to your milk tea provider?"

jae gasps loudly and throws his arms around mark's neck. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean it, i'm just grumpy because it's the morning, i'm sorry."

    "say my head isn't big and i'll give it to you."

    "it's the smallest head i've ever seen. smaller than mine, smaller than wes', it's not big at all," jae whines, hugging mark even tighter.

    "ew, get off me," mark pushes jae away from him and then reaches behind him to grab jae's tea. "just take it, geez."

jae makes an excited noise, something like a squeal or a dying cat, and grabs the drink, scrambling to open it and take a sip. when he finally does, he lets out a lewd moan that causes several people to shoot him a dirty look. wes laughs, loud and hard and mark just makes sure to take a picture.

    "your o-face is beautiful jaejae-ah," wes teases.

    "isn't it?"

    "you're so greasy, it's a wonder tha--oh! it's tobi!" wes leaps up and steps onto the table, giggling and waving at tobi as she approaches. mark laughs as he watches her, taking another picture. it's his best one yet and he can't wait to draw it later. he may even break out his pastels.

    "hey guys," tobi says as she gets within earshot. mark notices that she's awkwardly hovering around the mass of people.

he goes to shoot wes a look, but she's already on top of things, asking the people closest to her to make room. both mark and jae snicker at the annoyed looks that cross their faces. _i guess tobi is one of us now_ , mark muses to himself.

    "tobi! hey!" wes calls, "sit here!" the admirers part and tobi approaches, looking a near wreck from all the eyes on her.

    "hey guys," she smiles as she finally sits down.

    " _annyeong_ tobi," wes grins and tobi replies, cutely separating the greeting into each syllable, " _an-nyeong-ha-sae-yo_."

    "your pronunciation is getting better!"

    "not really, but i try," tobi mutters, scratching at the back of her neck.

    "and that's all that matters," mark adds, followed by, "hey tobi."

    "oh, hey mark!" she grins, eyes curving into little crescents.

    " _you're cute_ ," mark declares suddenly (in korean of course, so she can't understand). wes nods, eagerly agreeing and jae keeps sipping on his tea. tobi lifts an eyebrow, clearly curious for a split second before glancing wide-eyed at jae, probably noticing him for the first time.

    "oh yeah!" mark turns to jae and puts on his best older brother voice, "did you say hi to tobi, jaebum?"

jae just looks at tobi, throwing a quick nod. "hey."

    "hi?" tobi replies.

    "he's a diva, so ignore him," wes tells tobi while mark whispers, "way to make a good impression," to jae. the pair then glance at each other as if to say, they'll get along someday.

    "oh, by the way," wes turns to tobi, smiling brightly, "did you eat? i'll buy you something from the caf."

tobi's eyes widens as she shakes her head, black hair flying. "oh no, it's totally fine. you don't have to buy me anything."

    "but if you're hungry, you should eat, right?" wes asks, pouting. mark wants to laugh as he watches the internal struggle go on behind tobi's eyes.

    "here tobi," mark leans over and places his unopened tea and muffin in front her, "i usually make milk tea for everyone in the morning so here's mine. i'll add you to the list tomorrow." he winks.

    "oh, okay," she glances down at the tea, smiling to herself. "but what about you?"

    "he can share with me." wes chimes in. she hands him her tea and watches as he takes a sip with a certain gleam in her eyes. it's the kind of gleam that gets him all hot and bothered for no reason. _god mark, you're in public_.

clearing his throat, mark hands the drink back to wes and turns back to tobi. "see, it works out."

she gives him a little, wry smile. "if you say so."

    "oh and the muffin is peanut butter-banana, wes made it. good brain food, y'know?" he smiles, before his eyes widen as he suddenly remembers something. "how’s your head? did you get it checked out?" he asks, smoothing a hand along the back of her head to feel for any abnormally large bumps.

    "i'm fine mark." she grins. "nothing's wrong with me, my brain is fine."

    "are you sure?" wes asks.

    "yes mom and dad," tobi laughs, "the doctor said i was fine."

    "alright," wes mutters and then to mark she goes, " _she's so sly, isn't she_?" in korean.

    " _yeah she is_ ," and he takes a look at her rosy cheeks and shining eyes and smiles. maybe she'd let him paint her one day. " _she is really cute though_."

    "ah, _please_!" jae bursts, "you guys are too gross for the morning!"

the three of them all glance at jb and promptly start laughing at his expression. his chin is pushed out and his eyebrows are furrowed down to his nose. he looks like a damn emoji and it's so funny that mark can barely catch his breath.

    "you're good for a laugh jae," wes chuckles, switching back to english.

    "i'm good for something else too," jae lowers his voice and wiggles his eyebrows at wes. she dissolves into another fit of laughter, clutching at her stomach.

    "sure thing, baby boy," wes coos, reaching over and ruffling jae's hair. mark laughs as he sees a bright red blush creep over jae's cheeks.

    "d-don't call me that!" he splutters, his protest just about drowned out by mark, wes, and now tobi's laughter.

    "come on guys," he whines. after that plea also goes unheard, jaebum lets out a mock cry and buries his head in mark's lap. he mutters something that mark thinks is "you guys are so mean," but could very well be "i had too much tea" because both are so very jae.

    "he's a sensitive guy," wes chuckles to tobi, "be prepared to deal with his dramatics every morning."

    "i don't mind, i think it's cute," tobi grins at jae's still form, "very very cute."

from mark's lap, jae whines once more and mark has to bite down on his lip to keep from laughing again. he's always been like this, ever since he was 16 and b-boying for money. it's a real complex. he'd always tell mark about the stigma that surrounds b-boys, that they have to be Men™ because of the tricks they do.

    "one false move and an arm could get completely smashed, y'know?" he had muttered to mark as they lay on some random rooftop, limbs entangled and puffs of frustrated breath hitting mark's collarbones. "you gotta be hard to do those tricks, real strong."

    "it's okay to be cute jae," mark told him back then, holding him close and combing his fingers through his hair, admiring the way the bright moon caught on the black strands.

he does the same thing now, leaning down to jaebum's ear and going, "it's okay to be cute sometimes jaejae, you're still my strong manly man."

jaebum tilts his head to the side a little and cracks a smirk, "of course i am, someone's got to be" to which mark just shakes his head and smoothes a finger down jae's cheek. _he'll grow up someday_ , he thinks to himself.  

after a few more minutes of chatting with wes and the various admirers, wes' phone goes off loudly. she jumps slightly at the noise and then blushes when she notices mark smiling at her.

    "don't look at me like that," she mutters.

mark leans as close as he can without disturbing jae and asks, "like what?"

    "that," she flicks his forehead in a gentle way that only she can pull off, "all fond and stuff."

    "maybe because i am," mark grins. she just huffs through a smile and rolls her eyes.

    "it's time for you to go anyway, dork," she shows him her phone and it is indeed time for him to go, "15 minutes until class starts and you know jae walks slow."

    "shit, you're right," mark can't help but frown a little. he doesn't want to leave wes, especially not on this morning. it's too perfect, too picturesque...but...then again...he's also paying money for those classes and not going would be like losing a whole lot of money. so he makes a good decision for once and forces jaebum to get up and gather his things so they can leave.

once standing, he throws a wave at tobi going, "i'll see you later." she looks up at him and smiles.

    "bye mark, thanks for breakfast."

he grins, thinking ' _how cute!_ ' one last time before turning to wes to say goodbye. she tilts her head and looks at him so softly that he suddenly feels he might combust. he opens his mouth and finds that he has no words for once this morning. slowly, wes takes his hand and laces their fingers together.

    "bye mark-ah," she practically whispers. mark fish mouths for a couple more fruitless seconds before leaning in to kiss her senseless.

however, right before their lips touch, mark catches eyes with someone who isn't wes. it's maybe-kevin who's looking at them with so much interest that it scares mark a little bit. he flinches and then stiffens, frozen only a few inches from wes' mouth. as if maybe-kevin was the catalyst, mark can suddenly feel dozens of eyes on him. he glances to the left and sees may/june intently staring at them as well. if he turns around, would the rest of the admirers be staring at them too? were they always watched like this? was everyone always staring? mark recoils at the thought of that, screwing his eyes shut and biting down on his lip. oh god.

hoping wes didn't notice his little breakdown, he quickly presses his lips to her cheek and pulls his hand away from her so quickly that he thinks he might've scratched her. ignoring  the furrowing of her brow and the blatant hurt in her eyes, mark throws up a salute (since when did he do that) and goes, "catch you later wes!" before just about running off.

    "come jae, let's go," mark all but pleads, tugging on the fool's backpack.

he watches in pain as jae kisses wes' hand, smiles his greasiest smile yet and coos, "bye _noona_ " in a low voice. mark's skin begins to crawl, but not because of jae's terrible flirting. he can still feel everyone's eyes on him and it makes him want to run.

finally, _finally_ , jae breaks away from wes and starts making his way towards mark. when jae finally reaches him, mark grabs his wrist and drags him away until the feeling of eyes fades away.

jae must sense that something is up with mark because instead of protesting like he usually would, he just stays quiet and sips on his tea as mark pulls him along. when mark finally calms down, he lets go of jb's wrist and fusses with his hair, feeling awful and awkward. jb just watches him for a moment before asking The Question.

    "so what's up with you, man?"

mark chokes a bit, swallowing down regret and a little sadness. he blinks several times and the clears his throat. flashing what he wants to be an 'i'm okay' smile at jae, he plays dumb and asks, "what do you mean?"

    "don't do that mark," jb raises an eyebrow at him, reminding mark that he's one of the only people who can see through him, "when you kissed wes on the cheek, you look seriously scared and you never look scared. what's up?"

as much as it pains mark, he has to lie to his best friend and convince him that nothing is wrong. "oh that? i just caught eyes with kevin and he looked really weird. it scared me a little, that's all."

the reply seems to appease jae for now because he just shakes his head at mark and slings an arm around his waist. "he was probably just jealous. you know all those ass-kissers want a shot at her."

    "yeah, you're right. it's nothing."

    "but if it was something," jae wraps his other arm around mark now, trapping him, "i'd totally have your back. you know that, right?"

mark nods, smiling at the protective little man he's privileged to have as a best friend. "i know man, thanks," he says, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.

    "ugh, gross."

    "whatever jae," mark laughs, ruffling his hair to get in his nerves some more. "anyway, what do you think of tobi? isn't she cute?"

jb just huffs. "i guess," he mumbles while sipping some more of his tea.

    "oh come on dude," mark grins, "don't you like cute girls."

    "n-oh shit," jae exclaims as he trips over his own feet. he somehow manages to keep his tea from spilling as he flips over, landing in a split. a few random people break out into applause and jae, the attention whore he is, gives them a few bows.

when his 15 minutes of fame are over, jae turns to mark with a frown. "what i was trying to say was," he breaks off for a second to roll his shoulder. he looks a little pained so mark can't help but be concerned.

    "are you okay? is something up?" mark asks, poised to run jae to the emergency room.

    "i'm fine, i didn't have to time to brace hard enough." jae shrugs, brushing it off, "anyways, i don't like cute girls. i like hot and sexy girls like noona. she's real hot," jae sends mark a lewd smile. mark just looks at him and shakes his head, frowning deeply.

    "dude...no."

    "sorry," jae gives a sheepish smile, "i know she's your girl and everything. she is really hot though."

    "i know, but you're not supposed to know." mark slaps him on the back, laughing, "and if you do know, you're not supposed to say anything."

    "but i have no one else to call hot," jae whines, sipping on some more tea.

    "you'll find someone," mark coos, sliding his arm around jb's shoulder, "it'll happen, i can feel it."

    "yeah maybe," jae mutters, but it could also sound like, "i gotta pee," once again.

    "what'd you say?" jae looks at him, nervous and squirming. "i, uh, gotta pee!" he shouts and takes off running to the nearest bathroom.

    "alright man," mark laughs, feeling partly embarrassed and partly awkward due to all the commotion jae caused, "see you in class then."

after a boring ethics lecture, mark and jb are finally let out. jae throws a goodbye over his shoulder as he runs to the dance department to work in some practice before his next class and mark heads to the nearest food hall. wes' film lecture let out a bit early so they get to eat lunch together for once.

    "mark-ah," wes waves him over just like she did that morning. she's sitting by herself for once although there are many people admiring her from afar. and once she calls out his name, they begin looking at him from afar too. he desperately tries to ignore it as he walks up her and sits down.

    "hey," he grins tightly. he starts squirming around in his seat and to get her to ignore it, mark grabs one of her hands and presses a kiss to it. the action calms him somewhat and manages to get a blush out of her. "how was class?"

    "average. we're just watching projects now, it's no big deal. tobi and i wrote notes to each other all class. she's so cute, i swear," wes sighs, a dreamy look in her eyes.

    "looks like you've got a crush," mark pinches her cheek. she smiles knowingly at him.

    "maybe, but don't worry. she could never replace you." then she lifts their interlocked hands and presses a kiss to his wrist.

    despite his blushing, he fires back without missing a beat. "i don't mind you dumping me for tobi, i can date jae as a rebound."

    "oh really now?" she asks, astonished. for once, she can't think of anything smart to say. "i see how it is. i knew all those hang outs with him were just hookups. i'm going to have to keep an eye on you."

mark just rolls his eyes at her dramatics. "watch me all you want. you'll just find that i'm completely devoted to you."

    "ugh, you disgust me." she frowns and mark bursts into laughter.

    "that’s the goal," he smirks. wes just shakes her head in response. he looks at her as she does this, appreciating the way the sun feel on her cheeks and the tip of her nose and how her eyes turned into molasses. she was pretty, beautiful, gorgeous, and every synonym out there. not to mention the fact that she had a genuinely lovely personality. that was why people stared. they wanted her. they wanted to befriend her, to be her, to ‘wifey her up’ as the jae says. and because of that they were jealous of whoever spent time with her. that’s why they stared at him. he just wished that he noticed sooner because now, it was surely something that could affect their relationship if he couldn’t get his shit together.

inhaling some courage and forcing himself to ignore the eyes on his back, he slides over until he’s practically smashed against wes, throwing an arm around her shoulder. she smiles and rests her head on his shoulder. they look really couple-y and it’s sure to get the sheep talking. that fact frustrates mark beyond belief, but as long as wes didn’t seem to care, then he should be okay...right?

    “what’s for lunch wes?” he asks, trying to avert his mind’s focus from freaking out to food. maybe he’s just hungry, maybe he’ll be better after he eats something. hopefully it’s some weird form of being hungry and nervous...hervous? nangry? he doesn’t know.

wes looks at him, long black lashes blinking beautifully, and replies. “they’re doing that grilled cheese bar thing again. we could get that and some sodas. it’d be pretty good.”

    “then let’s do that, it sounds like you want it anyway.” she blushes and side eyes him.

    “how’d you know?”

    “you’re pretty obvious at times wes,” he laughs before standing and holding out his hand to help her up. she takes it and together they find their way to the caf, hands swinging and laughter following them. mark can still feel the stares of people as they pass, but he forces himself to ignore them. he can’t let them fuck him up.

so, as wes waits in line for their food (with mark’s debit card because he’ll be damned if he lets her pay for anything ever again) mark looks for the most secluded corner in the whole cafeteria and when the two freshmen making out in the corner he wants refuse to leave, he tries something different. he balances the takeout boxes in one hand, grabs wes’ hand with the other, and leads the way to _the_ tree.

when they get there, she gasps happily as if she cannot believe that he’s taking her there again. mark just chuckles to himself and shakes his head. didn’t she know? whatever was his was now also hers. this tree was her tree. mark’s life was her life. _and i can’t give her a reason to get tired of me_ , he thinks to himself.

    “i love this tree so much,” wes says as mark spreads out their feast. he watches her, totally amused, as she skips around, humming a happy song.

    “you can come sit here any time you want, you know.” she looks at him as he speaks, the smile on her face growing larger and larger until it threatens to take up her whole face. “it’s our tree now. we share it.”

    “mr. tuan, you are such a sweet-talker!” she walks over to him and bends down, pressing a kiss to his lips. his heart jumps about fifty beats and blood starts rushing past his ears. eager hands grab at wes’ hands and pull her against him. next thing they both know, he’s pressing her into the ground and kissing her fervently. thank goodness for this tree, they could be hidden in plain sight. he could do this as long as she let him and by god, he hopes that she’ll let him do it forever. he loves doing it.

    “mark!” she laughs as he presses a kiss to the spot right below her ear. he found that that spot made her giggle every time he kissed it when they were making out last night, so now he was determined to kiss it every chance he got. “can we at least eat first? the food will get cold.”

    “what if i told you that i wasn’t hungry for food.” his voice unintentionally drops low, no doubt in both of their minds about what he has his mind. he’s blushing severely, but won’t take it back. she drives him absolutely crazy.

    “then i’d give you one kiss and tell you to get off me so i could eat.”

    “do i get a say in how long this kiss is?”

    “nope,” and then she’s kissing him just as suddenly, just as ardently as he did and mark is melting against her, trying to soak up as much as possible. he hates the idea of hiding. they didn’t exactly have to, but he didn’t want people talking (or staring) either. he needed these little moments behind trees or in corners. they were about to become his reason for living.

his heart is thudding against his chest and he’s breathing heavy. he never wants this to end, he never wants them to end. he loves it, he loves everything about it. she smells so sweet and her skin is soft and she tastes like the strawberry soda she loves to suck on and oh god! he’s gone, he’s totally completely one hundred percent gone! he can’t fuck this up, he can’t fuck _them_ up, he needs this, he needs _her_.

wes pulls aways and mark open his eyes, breathing heavy, a foreboding lump of something now sitting in the pit of his stomach. her head tilts, eyebrow cocking, voice pitching high as she asks, “you okay?” mark takes awhile to answer her, taking in her messed up lip gloss, slightly mussed hair, and red cheeks. _so pretty_ , he thinks to himself, _so fucking pretty_.

    “yeah,” he nods slowly, still staring, still trying to savor this moment, “let’s eat.”

and they do exactly that. they talk and laugh and mark massages her legs while she practices her monologue for her next class. and then their time is up, they have to part ways yet again. he helps wes stand and brushes her off, trying to drag it out as long as possible. he doesn’t want to say goodbye, that lump in his stomach is telling him not to, the voice in the back of his head is screaming _wait!_ he hasn’t felt like this since he was watching jae at a competition when he was 20 and jae hurt his back trying out a new trick. he couldn’t pinpoint the feeling back then and he sure as hell can’t figure it out now. is someone going to get hurt? is it jae? is he okay? this is driving mark fucking crazy.

    “are you sure that you’re okay?” wes takes his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. he can tell he looks freaked out. his eyes are wide and he can’t exactly make eye contact with her.

    “nothing’s wrong with you, right? like, you’re healthy, right?” he asks. her brow furrows deeply. _of course she’s confused_ , mark thinks, _you’re acting weird_.

    “yeah, i’m fine. Why?”

    “just checking. i just want to make sure that you’re alright,” he brushes it off, or at least tries to. he just needs to make her think that he’s concerned, which he is, but only that. she can’t know how he feels right now, especially since he can’t really explain how he feels. it’s not worth freaking her out.

    “i’m okay mark,” she chuckles, writing him off, “thank you for being concerned though.”

“i try, i try,” he shrugs, faking the role of the humble boyfriend (which he wants to, but his fucking nerves are killing him). then reaches out for wes’ hand and together they start walking out of the leaves of the willow tree. when they get to the sidewalk, wes lifts their hands up and kisses his knuckles. his frantic nerves are calmed for a split second and he almost lets go of himself, he almost kisses her right then and there for everyone to see. but then he catches himself and forces himself to take a different path and press a kiss to her cheek instead. it’s close, but not the same thing and he’ll just have to deal with it.

and then they part ways and with every step, the dread takes over another small part of his body. he was going to fuck up, he could feel it. he just didn’t know how or when, but he was.

so he goes to his art history class, well the one that he’s assisting, and forces himself to forget. he ignores the lump in his stomach and the goosebumps and focuses on the excited freshmen who finally _finally_ get to discuss their idols at length. their chatter as well as the smell of acrylics and fresh canvas calms him down a little and he’s able to make it through the class. he engages in conversation instead of just taking down notes for the professor and even forms some new bonds with some of the kids. they’re the next generation and he’s glad that he’s able to help them along in their journey of self-discovery. one of the students even calls him their inspiration. he blushes from the unexpected compliment, but shoots a heart at the student regardless. the entire class bursts into _aww's_ and _so cute’s_! it’s one of those cute classroom moments that one looks back on in ten or twenty years. mark basks in the feeling while it lasts but soon enough, as all good things do, it comes to an end.

the church bell in the distance rings, signaling the end of class. mark bids each student farewell and chats with the professor for a bit on their way out of the building before making a mad dash across campus to get to wes in time. it takes him back to high school when he’d try to run from his english class in the basement to wes’ trig class on the fourth floor in the span of three minutes during their junior year. he made it every time, but not without losing a lung. eventually he built up some stamina, but the pain came first.

just like in high school, mark makes it just as wes’ class lets out. he arrives at the door with around thirty seconds to spare and arranges himself in a ‘cool-not-totally-freaked-out’ position. when the doors open, wes is the first one out with the rest of her admirers following her. all the confidence drains from mark as multiple pairs of eyes fly to him. his skin starts to crawl and nerves shoot down his spine.

wes walks up to him and takes his limp hand, lacing their fingers together. almost in horror, mark watches her purse her lips and lean in for a kiss and that’s when he does it. he flinches. it’s so subtle, but wes who tuned to every single sense in his body, notices and even though she tries to shut it down, mark who is in turn tuned to every sense in _her_ body, can see the pain her eyes.

oh gods. he hates that look, he absolutely hates that look. he’s only seen it twice. the first being when he told her that he was going to start dating samantha and the second being when they were both rejected from n.y.u. he would do anything to fix it, but this time he can’t. he really really can’t. oh gods.

    “hey, let’s, uh, get going,” she mutters, putting on her acting face.

    “yeah, let’s go,” mark replies and then they walk off. everyone else eats it up and starts throwing goodbyes at them, but mark can feel their eyes as they walk away. they’re always watching...always waiting. he hates it almost as much as he hates the look in wes’ eyes right now.

and he doesn’t relax as they slip out of view either. the both of them are tense, hands locked in a crushing grip. he’s not ready for this conversation and he knows that she’s not ready either. oh gods oh gods oh gods. they try to drag it out, they really do, but as soon as they pass the administration building and walk into a little alcove, wes turns to him and hits him with The Question. “do we need to talk?”

mark cringes, visibly, emotionally, internally, but answers nonetheless. “i think we do.”

    “about what though?” the pain is so real in her eyes and mark doesn’t want to tell her, but he can’t keep it in anymore.

    “they stare wes...and it drives me crazy.” he confesses and wes’ eyes glaze over. he can almost hear her thoughts and it’s so pervasive. he wants the ground to swallow him up or better yet, he wants god to smite him where he stands. it’s awful, he’s awful, but he can’t help it.

    “who? who is ‘they’ mark?” she’s squinting at him. he can see how she’s trying to work her way around his confession. he doesn’t expect her to understand, fuck, he doesn’t even understand  it himself.

    “everyone,” he mutters. he can’t make eye contact with her. he’s looking at everything, but her face, trying to avoid the pain that he knows is occurring. “just everyone around us. they stare at us all the time and i can’t do it.”

she takes in a shaky breath and it’s like a shot to heart. oh gods oh gods oh gods. “what do you mean by ‘it’ exactly? like this?” she gestures between them, desperation creeping into her voice.

    “no wes,” there’s a lump in his throat, he can barely speak.

    “i’m really trying not to be that type of girl, i’m really not,” she pauses, trying to find her voice as well, “but do you not want to be with me? was yesterday a one time thing?”

mark is screaming on the inside, trying to cut her off and explain, trying to make her understand, trying to make himself understand. it’s a mess, this whole thing is a mess. this wasn’t how it was supposed to go, not that he exactly knew, but this wasn’t it.

    “i’m sorry wes,” he looks at her now, taking in the damage he’s done. unshed tears threaten to spill down her cheeks. he wants to kiss them away, he doesn’t want to be causing her this pain. “i want to date you, i really do, there’s just so much staring. it gets to me, it really gets to me.”

    “so you want to take it slow? hide? what?” her voice has got this anguished edge to it and mark cringes again. he hates it, he hates it so fucking much.

    “i don’t know, i just...i just can’t do everything you deserve yet. not until the staring stops.”

    “but it’s not going to stop mark!” her voice cracks and so does he. “if it happens as often as you say, then isn’t it just something you’ll have to get used to?” he can only look at her. she meets his gaze for a moment before shaking her head and sighing. “you know what, i’m not being fair. you can be my boyfriend without being my boyfriend and that’s fine. we can date secretly and that’s fine. i know you and it’s not fair of me to ask so much of you.”

she’s acting, she’s clearly fucking acting, and she knows that he knows, but he can’t call her on it. not this time. it’ll benefit the both of them. so he lets her act and lets her create these lies for them to live in. “i’m sorry wes,” he says once more.

     “it’s fine, really, i’ve got to go meet tobi anyway, so i’ll see you later.” and then she leaves. just like that she’s gone, the conversation is over and all mark can do is try not to think about what he’s just done.

and that’s how they continue, they fall back into their classic we’re-just-best-friends ways, just with less affection. mark still brings her tea in the morning. they make small talk about homework and professors and what they should eat for lunch. they laugh at jae’s antics. tobi joins them and they chat about various things with her, getting to know the cute girl a little better. they don’t shares in kisses or hugs and even sit a whole foot apart. they separate themselves, they become mark and wes instead of _markandwes_. it’s uncomfortable and strange. mark doesn’t like it, but he also doesn’t like the staring that they still get whenever they’re together. he doesn't know what to do though. it bothers him, but the toll it’s taking on wes bothers him even more. he pretends that he can’t see it, but he does.

she’s thinner, way thinner than usual and she looks tired. yeah, they’re college students, but not once, in their entire four years, has she looked visibly tired. now though, now she’s starting to sport dark circles and walks around as if her body is hanging from her collarbones. she’s not eating either and she loves to eat and it’s scary. it’s fucking scary. mark tries to ask her if she’s alright, he tries to show that he still cares for her although he can’t hold her like she wants, but she brushes him off.

    “i’m fine mark, i swear i am,” she mutters, clutching her books so tightly to her chest that mark can feel the harsh corners of them in his chest. her eyes slide over to possibly-daniel and definitely-aisha who aren’t even staring at them, but the feeling is there regardless.

    “you don’t look okay,” his hand twitches, yearning to reach out and take hers.

     “and you’re suddenly worried because…?” there’s a bitter edge to her voice that causes them both to wince. “that’s not fair, i’m sorry.”

that should be mark’s line, but he can’t bring himself to say it, so he let’s her walk away. he let’s her put even more distance between them to accommodate him and his problems. he let’s her walk away and doesn’t even try to do a damn thing about it.    

and, later on, when their hands actually brush together and she violently flinches away, mark feels like he’s been shot a thousand times, but he knows that it’s not anything close to wes’ pain. she’s been bleeding since they spoke about “taking it slow” and now she’s finally bled out.

mark needs to fix it. he so desperately needs to fix it.

so he does the only thing he can. he goes back to his apartment and as he stares at the ceiling, imagining wes above him, he takes out his phone and calls his older sister.

  
    “hi _jie jie_ ,” he greets her, not even trying to disguise his sadness, “i’ve fucked up.”


End file.
